


I'd Like To Propose (A Toast To Us)

by freyjawriter24



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff, He/Him Pronouns For Aziraphale (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Marriage Proposal, Misunderstandings, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Silly, goloveday event, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29449446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freyjawriter24/pseuds/freyjawriter24
Summary: One unremarkable day, a demon takes an angel to dinner - and the most ineffable proposal on Earth takes place.***Written forJay_the_day_awayfor theGO Love DayValentine's exchange.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	1. Crowley

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jay_the_day_away](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_the_day_away/gifts).



> Happy Valentine's Day! This fic was written for [jay-the-day-away](https://jay-the-day-away.tumblr.com/) for the [GO Love Day](https://goloveday.tumblr.com/) 2021 exchange, and is very lovey-dovey and fluffy. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Jay gave me a brilliant prompt for this fic: a classic date, dinner with candlelight and flowers. I decided this was the perfect setting for a proposal fic, and since I have no self-control, I ended up writing it from both their perspectives! Chapter 1 is from Crowley's point of view, and Chapter 2 is the exact same series of events, but seen through Aziraphale's eyes. I'd love to hear what you think of each version in the comments!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Crowley's version of the ineffable proposal! (To read Aziraphale's first, [click here to see Chapter 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29449446/chapters/72340794).)

It took every ounce of restraint Crowley had to act casual when he walked through the doors of the bookshop that evening. He somehow managed to perfectly replicate his usual relaxed swagger, though, and leaned against the door to the back room with the easy elegance he usually did.

"Hey, angel," he said nonchalantly. "You ready for dinner tonight?"

He'd been planning this night for months (definitely not far longer than that), trying to get every detail perfect. He'd booked the table weeks in advance, rather than the usual last-minute miracle. And he'd gone there in person, more than once, to make sure the place was as flawless as possible.

Aziraphale smiled softly up at him from where he was reclining in his favourite chair. "Of course, darling."

There was such a beautiful expression of love on the angel's face that Crowley couldn't help feel his heart flutter a little. Aziraphale put his book aside - _Pride and Prejudice_ , being read for the umpteenth time - and stood. The angel fetched his coat from the rack, put it on, and then took Crowley's offered elbow to be led from the shop and into the Bentley.

The journey was quiet - other than the car blaring _Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy_ at top volume, no matter how much Crowley hissed at her to stop - and they made it to the restaurant without incident.

The place itself was carefully selected to symbolise the balance of both of them. The outside was unassuming, a simple sign over the entrance stating its name, with a warm light from inside lighting up the windows. Crowley held open the door, and let Aziraphale step in ahead of him to admire the décor.

The angel's little wiggle of delight told all. The restaurant was recently refurbished, but the building itself had been there for a good couple of centuries, resulting in the beautiful amalgamation of ancient wooden beams stretching across the ceiling and vanishing into sleek, freshly-painted walls. Comfortable and convenient slotted in together side-by-side, and Crowley couldn't help but slot his own fingers between his angel's to mirror the feeling.

Aziraphale gladly took his hand, and squeezed it. "Oh, this is delightful, darling! What beautiful choice!"

"Only the best for you, angel," Crowley murmured, and brought their joined hands up to his face so his lips could graze Aziraphale's knuckles with a kiss. Predictably, the angel blushed, and Crowley's heart soared.

A server appeared - one Crowley recognised from when he came to scout the place out - and led the pair of them to their table - one the demon had chosen himself.

The table itself - a neat, round, two-person one tucked away in a private corner, looked exactly as the demon had planned. A delicate vase in the centre held two demon-red roses, set upon an angel-white tablecloth. Wall sconces and a simple shabby-chic holder held candles which lit the area in warm, dim light, both romantic and reminiscent of the bookshop's cosiness.

They settled down opposite one another, sharing shy smiles as if this was all new to them (which, considering the grand scheme of things, it rather was). They were handed menus and offered drinks, and Crowley steeled himself for the long wait until dessert.

Somewhat predictably, Aziraphale took _ages_ over the food. He ummed and ahhed over the menu for what felt like a century, took his time savouring both his own and Crowley's starters, then spent _forever_ eating both their mains (making some downright _obscene_ noises as he did so). By the time the second course was being cleared away and the dessert menus brought out, Crowley's nerves were frayed to practically nothing. There was a tense moment just after they'd ordered, when Aziraphale had seemed to realise that Crowley was feeling nervous about tonight, but the demon brushed it off easily enough, and the angel didn't seem worried at all for the rest of the night, which was a relief.

And then came pudding.

The desserts arrived the right way round - Aziraphale with the lemon posset, as planned - but the angel insisted on swapping if Crowley wasn't going to eat the hot chocolate fondant. After all, there was no point in it going cold, was there? No matter that miracles could be used in a pinch, if necessary.

So it wasn't until an entire melt-in-the-middle delicacy had been slavered over and devoured in tiny moan-inducing mouthfuls that Aziraphale even touched the posset. When he finally did, Crowley's heart was in his mouth.

He'd decided ahead of time to take his sunglasses off oh-so-casually once the server had disappeared after delivering the final course, but almost immediately he regretted this decision. He was far too expressive without anything to cover his eyes - dangerously so, when it came to keeping something secret from Aziraphale. And he was so _close_ now, which made it nigh impossible to stop his features from reacting.

"Ooh, Crowley, this is _gorgeous_! Oh, it's _incredibly_ light! You have to try it."

"Nah, I'm good, angel. Plenty full up, me."

"It's not about fullness, it's about _flavour_. And it's very light, I promise. Quite delightful!"

Crowley groaned and tried to resist again, but any smart words were lost at that pleading look in the angel's eyes. He never had been good at giving Aziraphale what he wanted.

"Okay, fine. Just a little bit."

Aziraphale didn't seem to listen to that last specification. He held out a heaped spoon of posset, the very picture of a romantic lead feeding a sample of some stand-in for temptation to his lover. Crowley folded at once.

"You have to let it rest on your tongue," Aziraphale instructed. "Just feel it melt away and fill your mouth with flavour. It's remarkable."

Crowley did as asked, leaning in to empty the spoon of posset and letting it sit on his serpent's tongue to dissolve into lemony bliss.

Then he froze. _Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. Please no. That can't be..._

It was. His tongue curled around cold, hard metal, and his entire brain went into panic mode. _This wasn't the plan. What happens now? How on Earth do I take it out without him noticing? How do I put it back? This can't be happening, no, no, no..._

"...truly wonderful, isn't it, darling?" Aziraphale was saying, quite oblivious to Crowley's internal agitation. "Speaking of which..."

The angel put down his spoon beside the unfinished glass of posset. His hands disappeared for a moment into his lap, and then one reappeared in the empty space beside their plates, held out for Crowley to take. He did at once, hoping against hope that this interlude would allow him time to put the damned engagement ring weighing down his tongue back into that traitorous dessert.

" _You_ are truly wonderful, Crowley," Aziraphale continued. The demon's whole attention was suddenly on his angel, on those glorious eyes, on that beautiful, expressive face. He had to remind himself to lock his jaw shut to avoid gaping and giving the game away. Oh, _gosh_ , Aziraphale had gorgeous eyes.

The angel was still talking, though. "I won't call you _nice_ or _good_ , because I don't think you're ready to realise how beautifully those words fit with you, but I do hope you'll forgive me if I call you _kind_ and _gentle_ and _loving_. Because you really are, Crowley. You are loving and loved, most especially by me. And I hope with my entire being that you can understand that with the entirety of yours."

Crowley was desperate to reply, but what on Earth could he do? If he opened his mouth, even to speak, Aziraphale would definitely see the ring. This was _not_ how he'd planned this going.

"You don't have to say anything back," the angel said, and Crowley felt his heart clench at the misunderstanding. "It's more than fine if you don't know what to say. But I want you to know that I adore my life on Earth with you, and would never give it up for anything. I can't wait to watch the rest of eternity play out by your side, if you'll have me that long, and I would love the opportunity to celebrate that publicly with you."

If it wasn't for the fact that Crowley had already locked his jaw tight shut, it would have fallen open then and there. Because Aziraphale had just gotten down on one knee.

Their still-entwined fingers squeezed then came loose, and Aziraphale produced a tiny velvet box - the type that Crowley had seen again and again and again in every cheesy chick flick and rom-com he'd watched alone in his flat.

The angel flicked it open and held it up for his demon to see.

There was a ring. An engagement ring. An actual, real-life, Aziraphale-to-Crowley ring of engagement.

"Crowley," the angel said, eyes bright and smile beaming. "I know this is a very human tradition, but I rather think we're rather more a human couple than anything else. And I know that that ring in your mouth might make it a little difficult to answer, but. Would you do me the honour of marrying me?"

For a moment, all Crowley could process was that _Aziraphale_ was _proposing_ to _him_. Then his mind finally caught up to the exact words used, and all the tension of that afternoon came flooding out in one affectionate sentence.

"Oh, you _bastard_."

Aziraphale grinned, that familiar hint of un-angelic mischief glinting in his eye, and if it was even possible, Crowley loved him even more now than ever.

"Is that a yes?" Aziraphale prompted cheekily.

" _Yes_ , you ridiculous angel. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Six thousand times, yes."

He pulled the other ring out of his mouth, cleaned it instantly, and got down on the floor too. "I had a whole speech prepared and everything, but I'll have to do that later because I am _far_ too emotional to remember even a single word of it now. This'll have to do: Aziraphale, will you do me the ineffable honour of marrying me?"

Aziraphale _glowed_. "Oh, yes, my dearest. I most certainly will."

At some point they must have put on the rings, must have thanked the waiters and the few applauding fellow diners, must have ordered or at least received the champagne that ended up on their table, but Crowley didn't remember any of that. His mind was entirely taken up with the feeling of Aziraphale against him, in a tighter-than-possible embrace that reached across planes of existence, in the sensation of knowing, completely and utterly, that they were _together_ , that he was _loved_ , and that this, right here, was his future.

He sat back in his chair again, gazing love-drunk across the table at Aziraphale, as they clinked their champagne glasses together.

"To us," his angel said exhilaratedly.

"To us," Crowley echoed indulgently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading Crowley's version of these events! I hope you enjoyed it - and if you haven't seen Aziraphale's point of view on all this yet, do click through to [Chapter 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29449446/chapters/72340794) to read that too!


	2. Aziraphale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Aziraphale's version of the ineffable proposal! (To read Crowley's first, [click here to see Chapter 1](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29449446/chapters/72340560).)

Aziraphale could tell something was different as soon as Crowley walked through the doors of the bookshop that evening. There was a tenseness to his usual swagger, and he leaned against the door to the back room in an exaggeratedly casual pose that screamed of being artificial.

"Hey, angel," he said in a voice straining to seem normal. "You ready for dinner tonight?"

Of course, there'd been signs that tonight was something unusual for a while now. Crowley had booked the table ahead of time, and made sure that Aziraphale would be in the area for it. The angel had wracked his brains (and gone back over several history books) trying to figure out what the occasion might be, but every date had so many anniversaries attached that it was impossible to pin down just one. Which itself had led him to an interesting conclusion, though one that he hadn't been wholly sure of - until the very moment Crowley walked in.

Aziraphale tried to exude love to calm his demon down a little. There was no need to be nervous around one another now, after all. "Of course, darling."

The angel put his book aside - _Pride and Prejudice_ , being read on this particular occasion for no particular reason - and stood. He fetched his coat from the rack, and deftly, subtly, checked the hidden pocket was still protecting its precious contents before putting it on. Then the angel took Crowley's offered elbow and allowed himself to be led from the shop and into the Bentley.

The car only encouraged Aziraphale's suspicions, refusing to do anything other than play _Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy_ at top volume, flatly ignoring Crowley's quietly urgent attempts to convince it otherwise.

When they got there, Crowley opened the door to the Bentley for Aziraphale, as he so often did, and led the way towards the restaurant. It was called _The Two Swans_ , the angel noticed with a slight flutter in his chest, and he couldn't help but smile to himself at Crowley's thoughtfulness as he stepped through the second door of the night that the demon was holding open for him.

Inside, the space was compact and a little higgledy-piggledy, but almost homely in that way. It would have reminded him of the bookshop, except that the neatness and minimalism of the decor more accurately matched Crowley's current Mayfair flat. There were exposed beams above and neat little wooden tables below, each decorated with a single candle and occupied by couples and families all chatting cheerily away to one another. It was perfect - wonderfully Aziraphale, yet also brilliantly Crowley. A glorious combination of the two of them.

The demon's fingers slotted perfectly between Aziraphale's, and he squeezed Crowley's hand at once in excitement. "Oh, this is delightful, darling! What beautiful choice!"

"Only the best for you, angel." The tenderness in Crowley's voice was almost unbearable. Aziraphale looked at him adoringly, and felt his cheeks warm as the demon lifted the angel's hand to his lips and kissed it. No, forget 'almost' - this _was_ unbearable. Aziraphale could _feel_ his heart overflowing with love.

At that moment, a waiter appeared to take them through to their table. Aziraphale was so busy trying to cool down his traitorous face that he almost missed that the waiter hadn't even asked for a name. Apparently, Crowley had been here ahead of time. Well, then. Only one thing that could be that important, surely.

The table was adorable - a white-draped two-person affair, lit by romantic candlelight and decorated with a pair of red roses (Crowley's colour) in a beautifully old and worn holder (Aziraphale's style). They were hidden away a little from everyone else, too, in this private corner just for them.

Crowley, ever at Aziraphale's service, pulled out a chair for his angel, then sat down opposite him, smiling somewhat nervously over the candle and roses. Aziraphale couldn't help but smile back, hoping the warmth of his own expression would calm the demon's obvious anxiety.

The waiter offered each of them menus, and Aziraphale let Crowley choose the drinks while he began to study the options carefully. _Now. Three courses, without a doubt. What are the options? What's the best through-line? How do these all tie together?_

Food was important to Aziraphale, as were stories. And menus, he found, could often be an example of the perfect marriage of the two. The flavours of each course, even the very ingredients, could be matched up with one another to create a flow of sensation, an unfolding tale of delights. The main question when choosing what to eat was to decide how this particular story would go.

There was, of course, also the question of Crowley's meal. The Serpent of Eden - ironically, for someone most known by their association with food - didn't spend much time over cuisine. He ate rarely, mostly at Aziraphale's prompting, and when he did it was quickly, without savouring the flavours. This minimalism often played out in the Principalities favour, though - when Crowley wasn't in the mood for a large meal, Aziraphale could often pinch significant portions, even whole courses, without him minding. Which only meant that there were _six_ different dishes to take into account when planning what food to taste.

"What are you thinking, my dear?" Aziraphale asked idly, eyes still roving the menu hungrily.

Crowley had already put his copy back on the table, laid neatly beside the already set out cutlery. "Soup to start," he said decisively, "then the steak and chips for main."

Aziraphale nodded approvingly. "No dessert?"

The demon shrugged. "Maybe. I could probably be persuaded." Which meant, as they both knew, _I don't want one, but I'll order one so you can have two._

"Apparently this place is famed for its lemon posset," Crowley carried on, incredibly naturally. "Saw it on Tripadvisor."

The angel blinked a little at that. It was a rare day indeed that the demon would offer food knowledge to _Aziraphale_ , of all people. He tried not to read into the statement too much.

"Well then," he said, trying to respond casually. "Perhaps you should order that for yours, and I could try a little?"

Crowley gave an amused smile. "Sure, angel. Whatever you like."

Aziraphale pondered the menu a little longer, then made a decision. Miraculously, as soon as he'd done so, the waiter returned to ask if they were ready to order.

"Yes, thank you! I'll have the smoked salmon and rye blinis for my starter, and the mushroom and pesto linguine for my main course."

"Soup and steak, please," Crowley said shortly. Any clarification needed on the kind of soup, or what form the potatoes should take was miraculously solved without a word, and the waiter disappeared off to inform the kitchen.

As he turned back to his date, Aziraphale noticed once again that Crowley was looking particularly on-edge tonight. Not obviously, mind - he was lounging casually in his chair, that long-familiar mask of calm firmly in place - but Aziraphale had long since learned to recognise the mask for what it was. And when he hadn't seen it in so long, it was a difficult thing to witness.

For a moment, Aziraphale worried that he'd read the signs wrong. Perhaps tonight wasn't what he'd imagined it to be, and Crowley was in fact building up to telling him something serious. Perhaps there was some awful thing on the horizon that Aziraphale was in the dark about, and this was Crowley's way of giving him a last dose of happiness before the catastrophe hit.

"Is everything alright, dearest? You look a little tense."

"Do I?" Crowley looked down at himself, brow furrowed, then seemed to realise what Aziraphale must be seeing. "Oh, sorry." He sat up the tiniest little bit straighter, took a deep breath, and then finally seemed to relax properly.

"Anything troubling you?" Aziraphale inquired further, trying to avoid Crowley ending up worrying that Aziraphale was worrying too much to have a good time (sometimes the demon's logic was circular like that, and it had spiralled them into holes of anxiety on a couple of their early dates. Aziraphale hoped they were past that by now).

"No, no, I'm great. Wonderful. Just... y'know. Hoping you like the food."

"Oh, I'm sure I will. It all smells delicious."

The demon nodded. "Good. Good."

Aziraphale smiled warmly at him, and reached out for Crowley's hand. The demon took it at once, and the angel gave it an encouraging squeeze. "This looks set to be a truly lovely evening, my darling. Thank you so much for bringing me here."

It was hard to tell in the candlelight, but Aziraphale was fairly certain the tips of Crowley's ears now matched his hair.

The starters arrived not long after that, both of which Aziraphale ended up having most of, and then the main courses arrived miraculously quickly after that. Crowley scarfed down half a steak and then spent the rest of the time picking at chips until Aziraphale finished his linguine and asked whether he could finish off Crowley's meal too.

They'd been chatting leisurely while they ate, all gentle smiles and loving looks, but as soon as the plates were cleared away and the dessert menus brought out, Crowley stiffened up again.

"I think I'd like to try the chocolate fondant," Aziraphale mused casually. "Are you still interested in the lemon posset?"

"Definitely," Crowley said, and the angel watched as the curve of the demon's spine softened infinitesimally when Aziraphale nodded approvingly.

"Right, then." Aziraphale turned away from the table to catch their waiter's eye, and managed it at once - with no miracle expended on his side, though he had his suspicions about Crowley.

"One lemon posset and one hot chocolate fondant, please," Aziraphale requested cheerfully, and the waiter smiled genuinely at each of them in turn before disappearing off. It was becoming increasingly difficult not to read into everything that was happening that evening.

The hidden pocket of Aziraphale's coat weighed heavy against the back of his chair and mind. He was fairly certain he could reach it in a moment if required. _Not yet, though. Let's see what happens._

The desserts were brought out and, interestingly enough, the waiter placed the lemon posset in front of Aziraphale without asking first which way round they should be. As the human disappeared and the demon casually set his sunglasses aside, the angel eyed Crowley's dessert.

"If you're not planning on having any of that, would you mind if we swapped dishes? I'd rather eat the chocolate while it's still hot. The posset will keep."

"Course, angel," Crowley said stiffly.

It had to be something to do with the posset, then. Completely. Definitely. One hundred percent. Aziraphale felt a little bad for figuring out Crowley's plan before it had happened, but there wasn't much he could do about that. Except, perhaps, have a little fun with it.

The fondant was spectacular, a divine burst of rich flavour across the angel's tongue, and he couldn't help but give an extra-enthusiastic groan of delight as he tasted it. "Oh, that is _marvellous_! If your excursion consultant is right about the lemon posset, then quite frankly you'll have to rescue me from Heaven again, because I can't believe there's a better pudding on the menu than this."

"Tripadvisor, angel. It's a website. And I'm pretty sure you're the one who rescued yourself from Heaven. I'm not the one who took a flying jump off the edge and back down to Earth without a body."

"True. Though you were rather a strong motivator in me doing so."

Aziraphale revelled in the blush that had crept its way onto Crowley's cheeks and made his gorgeous eyes stand out all the more. The angel finished the rest of the chocolate pudding highly satisfied with the whole endeavour, and then swapped plates with his partner again.

He was careful to take only the daintiest of mouthfuls of the posset. It was always fun to tease his demon just a little bit.

"Ooh, Crowley, this is _gorgeous_! Oh, it's _incredibly_ light! You have to try it."

The demon put up some token resistance, but in truth, he'd never been able to deny his angel anything. Aziraphale prepared the spoon with immense care, and held it out to him.

"You have to let it rest on your tongue, just feel it melt away and fill your mouth with flavour. It's remarkable."

There was a flicker of that intriguing forked tongue as Crowley cleaned the spoon of posset, and then Aziraphale sat back to watch his handiwork.

He pretended not to notice when the demon realised what had happened and froze solid. It was quite a trial, Aziraphale had to admit, to not laugh out loud at once and give the whole game away. But he just about managed to keep a simple, soft smile on his face while the demon panicked about how to put back in Aziraphale's dessert the engagement ring that had just accidentally ended up in his mouth.

"It is truly wonderful, isn't it, darling?" the angel began, choosing his words carefully now. "Speaking of which..." He put down the now-empty spoon and reached quietly backwards to the hidden pocket of his coat, retrieving from it the small box he'd been keeping hidden there for the past few months. He held the box tightly in one hand under the table, and rested the other on the tabletop for Crowley to take.

Thankfully, the contact seemed to root Crowley to the moment, and the demon seemed to actually be listening as Aziraphale began to speak.

" _You_ are truly wonderful, Crowley. I won't call you _nice_ or _good_ , because I don't think you're ready to realise how beautifully those words fit with you, but I do hope you'll forgive me if I call you _kind_ and _gentle_ and _loving_. Because you really are, Crowley. You are loving and loved, most especially by me. And I hope with my entire being that you can understand that with the entirety of yours."

Crowley looked like he was desperate to say something in return, but too worried that Aziraphale would see the ring if he opened his mouth.

"You don't have to say anything back," the angel said quickly. "It's more than fine if you don't know what to say. But I want you to know that I adore my life on Earth with you, and would never give it up for anything. I can't wait to watch the rest of eternity play out by your side, if you'll have me that long, and I would love the opportunity to celebrate that publicly with you."

In one fluid motion, Aziraphale slipped from his seat and down into the space beside the table at Crowley's feet. One knee on the ground, he squeezed Crowley's fingers one last time, then released it and flicked open the tiny box in his other hand, offering it upwards.

"Crowley. I know this is a very human tradition, but I rather think we're rather more a human couple than anything else. And I know that that ring in your mouth might make it a little difficult to answer, but. Would you do me the honour of marrying me?"

Aziraphale saw the exact moment that Crowley realised what he'd said. It was fantastic to watch, the instant where wild-eyed shock turned to adoring and slightly impressed understanding.

"Oh, you _bastard_."

Aziraphale's heart soared in mingled relief and triumph, pleased with himself that the situation had turned out so well, and elated by the pure adoration in those three words.

"Is that a yes?" he prompted cheekily.

" _Yes_ , you ridiculous angel. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Six thousand times, yes."

Crowley ducked his head slightly and retrieved the other ring from his mouth. In an instant it was clean and shining, and then the demon was down on one knee too, holding out the engagement band with such pure happiness in his eyes. "I had a whole speech prepared and everything, but I'll have to do that later because I am _far_ too emotional to remember even a single word of it now. This'll have to do: Aziraphale, will you do me the ineffable honour of marrying me?"

Nothing in all of Creation had ever made Aziraphale happier. "Oh, yes, my dearest. I most certainly will."

Everything was rather a blur after that. They threw themselves at one another, of course, embracing tight enough that even the forms outside these corporations could feel it, a plane-spanning coming-together that felt like everything, finally, was right with the world. Then they were apart again, still knelt on the floor, and laughing as they pushed their respective rings onto each other's fingers. Then they hugged again, and there was applause coming from somewhere, and it was only then that Aziraphale realised a small congregation of humans had been watching that ridiculous proposal. He blushed a little and thanked them, and then thanked them again when a waiter brought over a bottle of champagne.

A few moments later, bloodstream still rushing with pure, sparkling love, they were sat back at the table again, champagne glasses in hand. Aziraphale couldn't help but beam dazedly across at Crowley, and he felt more in love than ever as Crowley grinned impossibly wide back. His beautiful golden eyes were blown wide at all the excitement, and Aziraphale let himself get lost in them for a moment. After all, this was his life now. Why shouldn't he indulge?

The thought that a toast was in order came to mind, and as the two of them clinked their champagne glasses together, the most obvious, most beautiful, most ineffable phrase came to mind.

"To us," Aziraphale said giddily.

"To us," his demon repeated fondly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading Aziraphale's viewpoint on all this! I hope you enjoyed it - and if you haven't seen Crowley's version of events yet, do click back through to [Chapter 1](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29449446/chapters/72340560) to read that too!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this ridiculous fic! I hope it made you smile.


End file.
